


Maintenance

by RanchDeChloe



Series: jock on jock crime [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Awkwardness, Bondage, Dom/sub, Flogging, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smoking, android sex, assholes in love, idiots bad with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 11:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RanchDeChloe/pseuds/RanchDeChloe
Summary: Two absolute assholes refuse to say 'I love you' but they are learning other ways to care.





	Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> The plot on this one is pretty thin I just wanted to explore a bit of porn while figuring out how they would express affection.
> 
> Once again read it as part of the whole series or just enjoy on its own.

Reed plays with his lighter, changing the almost nonexistent light in the bedroom from pale blue to a wash of buttery yellow and back again.

“Stop it, you’re wasting butane”.

Gavin rolls his eyes, wondering how much of his expression android eyes can make out in the dark. He feels around for a cigarette off his nightstand.

“You really must quit smoking its terrible for your lungs”. 

“Planning on selling my organs on the black market?”

“No, but no point in lowering their value” It was so hard to tell RK900 thought he was being funny.

Gavin goes to light it and the lighter is taken from his hand. Gavin groans “Come the fuck on, you are the boss of me like 90% of the time, let me have a moment to myself and go to standby or whatever”.

“The risk of cancer is-“

“I risk getting shot or stabbed or some other more creative version of murdered every god damn day mathematically it has to work out that my card will get punched long before the lung cancer sets in”.

The LED next to him goes yellow, overthinking something.

“Reed, where do you even acquire these? Michigan made the purchase of tobacco products illegal 8 years ago”.

“It’s not illegal to own them”.

He could almost say RK900 sounded annoyed “That wasn’t the question, don’t be a brat. The nearest place of legal acquisition is- you don’t drive all the way to Indiana do you?”

“Technically the greyhound bus drives but yes, I buy a lot at once, makes it worth my while”.

The LED flickers “That is…. the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard”.

“Are you going to let me smoke in peace or are you going to waste a perfectly good cigarette that traveled over state lines to get in my god damn mouth?” he grouses. 

The LED adds a quick pop of red as it flashes yellow before settling back to a calm blue, “Fine, but I get to monitor how many you have and you have to work towards quitting eventually…. and I get to ash it in your mouth”.

Gavin doesn’t get to respond before the cigarette is taken from his fingers and lit in 900’s lips, synthetic lungs taking a drag before leaning over, blowing smoke into Gavin’s mouth like they are teenagers.  
Gavin snorts a little delighted, “lame”. 

“You know these contain acetone, ammonia, arsenic-“

“I thought you didn’t have that weird tongue tester thing”.

“I don’t, but I have google”.

“You are ruining the moment, you plastic fuck.”

He gets smoke blown directly in his face for the comment, making gavin blink and turn away.

“You are lucky I have a self cleaning function”, RK900 takes Gavin by the chin and presses their mouths together again to share a lungful of smoke, “Now stick out your tongue”.

Being fed cigarette ash isn’t the worst thing Gavin’s ever been fed and he almost feels kind of proud when he doesn’t flinch.

—-

It takes a few months for Gavin to really get RK900 to expand their sexual repertoire. Gavin wasn’t really complaining, what they had was primal and appealing but there were itches unsatisfied and things he thought RK900 might like.

It’s just hard to get the robot who threw a hostile take over of his dick to listen sometime.  
Thankfully Gavin wasn’t the worst detective and he has been able to put two and two together.

RK900 could be talked into something after they closed a case, after celebrating at home and feeding that smug sack of shit’s ego with praise (Gavin wont say it out loud but he’s pretty sure that the cyberlife lapdog programming never really went away), and plying him with a solid orgasm. Gavin even thinks he’s getting pretty good at robot anatomy. As much as he wished he could get RK900 off by riding his fat plastic cock, a mix of sucking his fingers and rubbing the back of his neck seems to crank his motor most of all. 

He’s feeling pretty superior that he pulled all that off and talked RK900 into flogging. 

The android insists on downloading the right health and safety instructions, along with old Traci unit programs because he claims if he’s going to do it, he's going to do it right. He does’t admit that he used to pay for the privilege of experiencing the old traci program but from the look on RK900’s face he was scanning gavin and knew he touched a nerve. Stupid traitorous reactive human body.

 

Gavin straddles a kitchen chair, hugging the back of the chair. RK900 is far too quite, Gavin guesses he's focused on scanning him, watching him from the inside out, cataloging all the information away in that big stupid hard drive of his. 

RK900 lays into him with even thuddy strokes across the shoulders and Gavin’s nostrils flair as he hooks his chin over the back of the chair, closing his eyes. All the tension in him peaks before melting away. It’s an easy kind of hurt that makes everything kind of fuzzy and makes his mind unwind, his breathing easier. Maybe he would have got hard had they moved it down to his thighs and ass, taken it harder, but RK900 keeps it focused and even on his upper back. By the end of it Gavin didn’t even know how long he’s sat there. He feels boneless and slack, his hands resting easy on his thighs.

He whines as RK900 pokes at the raw skin of his shoulder blades, “Ow”

“You took that so calmly… you don’t take eating a salad or completely paperwork this calmly” RK900 teases. 

“Those things don’t feel good” Gavin slurs. 

Cool smooth fingers dig into a tender spot and Gavin groans, shuddering. A few beats later and RK900 is pushing his lips open with his finger tips and placing two tylenol on his tongue before nearly forcing a water bottle in his mouth. He swallows and drinks but manages a mild glare at RK900. 

RK900 has his sleeves pushed up, he must of done that before hitting him. Its a good look on him.

Gavin pushes the bottle away, “Gimme a second”.

RK900 busies himself with running a hand towel under a cold tap, returning and pressing it to his upper back and Gavin squirms, stuck between sweet relief and a new pain, “Fuck”.

“If I don’t tend to this, you will not be comfortable working tomorrow”.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine, just give me a minute to get my legs under me”.

RK900 sounds a strange kind of worried “Did I do it wrong?”

“huh? no, it was great RK” he mumbles, “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t manage an erection, consensual pain is usually a surefire trigger for you to become erect”. 

“Don’t worry about it. I promise, you did it so right I didn’t need to get hard” he sleepily smirks, still draped over the chair, pleased that he confounded his sentient kinky toaster.

—-

Gavin had to drag RK900 to the gym. “you love kicking my ass, you’ll love this”.

“Reed I’m bigger, faster, stronger, and more resilient than you, it wouldn’t be a fair fight, I don’t understand the point of you wanting to spar with me”.

“Just turn your reaction time down, or something, make it fair”.

“That isn’t something I'm capable of!”

“Your glowy thing-“

“LED” RK900 corrects.

“Your glowy thing has been yellow for two whole days, you are stressed out over this case, you need to relax”.

Gavin helps him into a set of boxing gloves and RK900 makes a disgusted noise as he processes the amount of old dry sweat inside of them.  
Gavin smiles up at him, “Come on, or are you afraid I’ll fuck your ass up?”

“You are goading me, detective Reed”.

“Hell yes I am, you need to relax, your wires are gonna burn up if you don’t blow off some steam and I can’t get you drunk and you overthink sex so… here we are”.

Gavin is already sloppily getting himself into his own gloves, “Think of it as training me to be better at taking a punch”.

The corner of RK900’s lips ticks up, a brief impression of a smile, “That’s one of the few things you excel at, Reed, who knows, maybe we can straighten out that crooked nose of yours”.

“You are a total asshole, you know that? I try to be nice and this is what I get”.

—-

Gavin had been especially good this month which is why he’s bound to the headboard with standard issue DPD handcuffs, his face flushed and splotchy as RK900 fucks into him.

He’s already come, a wet mess soaking his jock strap. He whines and squirms, feeling absolutely wrecked and RK900 seems to have no interest in slowing down or stopping. Gavin loves it. 

RK900’s brow is knit in focus, but he doesn’t breath harder or flush, he’s still a flawless sort of pale and unfazed by it all. Gavin admits it makes it that much hotter, being taken apart by someone unshakeable.

Gavin shivers as RK900 coaches him on “You are such a good boy like this, just taking this, you’ve been so good”.

The tips of ridged plastic fingers dig into his ass, it feels like the skin has melted away from them and Gavin smirks for a second, its rare RK900 slips up like that. He drops his head back just as quickly, groaning and all thought erased as the angle is shifted and he starts to feel like he might be able to get hard again but its almost too much. He goes rigid and cries out.

Gavin bites his lip and tries to hide his whimpers but RK900 takes pity, pulling out, stroking his hands over Gavin’s thighs.

“Breathe Gavin, settle yourself, you can take a little more but I need you relaxed”.

RK900 slicks his fingers with more lube, sliding them inside of Gavin with no resistance, making him that much wetter.

Gavin is a blubbering mess, “RK, please, I can’t, its… Fuck, RK….R….R…”

RK900 leans over and presses down gently on his navel, as the fingers inside of him focused on his prostate.

 

Gavin twists away, gritting his teeth, “Fuck! R! too much!”

It feels like an eternity later that RK900 slips out his fingers and the android busies himself, digging out the sanitary wipes he insists that they need. Gavin doesn’t mind falling asleep wet and sticky but RK900 finds it ‘abhorrent’.

Gavin curses and grunts as he gets wiped up still feeling way too sensitive. His underwear gets pealed off next and his cock wiped down as well, “Fucking hell give me a minute you asshole”.

“You don’t want it to dry”.

“The fuck I don't” he grouses. 

RK900 slaps the outside of his thigh, “behave, stay quiet while I wash up and we’ll continue”.

Gavin settles, putting it together. Ass to mouth is also on the ‘abhorrent’ list and its an activity where RK900 insists on fastidious cleanliness before switching things up.

RK900 excuses himself, leaving the bedroom door cracked, Gavin is sure the creep is listening to his every heartbeat and breath as he goes to clean up, spying on him to make sure he's okay.

Gavin snorts, thinking that his android is a sappy pervert.

He flexes his wrists, shifting where the metal presses. He listens as the old pipes thump and whine in protest as the sink runs. He rubs his thighs together, feeling too loose and hollow.

He listen as footsteps lead back to the room but stop just outside the door. He’s making Gavin wait.

Gavin can’t help himself, “I might not have weird android super hearing, but I’m not deaf, asshole, I know you are there”.

RK900 steps in and leans on the door frame, “You are incorrigible, you terror”.

“Shut up and fuck my face you, dipshit”. 

RK900 strides over, crawling back into bed and straddling his chest. His skin is so already cool to the touch, he’s already lost the shared body heat from screwing. He tried to explain it once, his musculature is unique and more efficient or some shit so it doesn’t build up a lot of heat like other models.

Gavin likes it, there is that weird satisfaction of putting a cold water bottle against your forehead on a hot day.

RK900 takes him by the hair, tugging and Gavin groans.

“I guess there really is only one way to shut you up”.

Gavin already knows his neck is going to kill him come morning. Worth it.

Gavin looks up at him through his eyelashes, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue.

RK900’s nose wrinkles up only for a moment, a flash of his LED, a soft noise he can’t seem to help followed a small but audible beep from somewhere deep inside of him.

It’s still really weird to Gavin that RK900 can adjust the sensitivity of his cock but he's getting used to watching the signs for when he turns it up.

He already feels the ache in his shoulders as RK900 tugs his head up into the right angle, leaning in and pressing into his mouth.

Maybe Gavin really should start stretching before sex like the android is always blathering on about.

—-

Gavin is fiddling with a bag of thirium 310 in the break room, cracking the tamper-proof cap and squeezing it out into a paper cup. He left it in the back of the freezer for 15 minutes, RK900 seems to like it cold. It kind of thickens up, like honey, and seems all the grosser but its not like Gavin drinks the stuff. Every other android at the station seems to have an opinion, they find bags left on top of the coffee maker to get warm, blue tinged mugs in microwaves, water bottles filled with the stuff in the shared fridge. 

 

Gavin sniffs it, yep, still smells like hand sanitizer and wet pennies. He sticks a plastic spoon in it, in case its too thick to sip.

 

He takes it and his own coffee (decaf, its after 3 pm and caffeine after 3 is against the rules) and returns to their shared work space, setting it on RK900s desk before sitting down. 

His butt has barely hit chair when his personal phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. RK900 looks up at him expectantly.

He’s not one for small talk but RK900 will use the creepy robot brain Bluetooth nonsense to message him on his work terminal from time to time. He only switches to his phone when its deemed private.

The text simply says ‘good boy’ and Gavin flushes from ear to neck.

RK900 doesn’t hide his smirk as he goes to shove a spoonful of runny blue goop in his mouth.

Gavin shakes his head, “and you say I’m the one that’s nasty, you're fucking gross, R”.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope David Cage finds a hair in his food at every meal for the rest of his natural life.


End file.
